THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
that he was a Cursal Canon in the Cathedral Church of St. David, the worship of which stall he mightily extolled, "for," said he, "in our Chapter the King's Majesty is but Cursal the First, and 'tis an august office to be Sacristan." Somewhat he spoke of great princes, his ancestors, somewhat of checky, crusoly, martlets, ermines, and gringolly, somewhat of the castle of Fleur-de-Lys, and ancient vessels of silver; but most of this is impertinent and I pass to the young gallant. Who told us that he came from the Realm of France, that he was of the house of La Roche Nemours (de Rupe Nemorosa) in Brittany, and was travelling in Gwent for his curiosity, which made him go whither his fellows went not. But as we understood his English poorly and he our French no better we agreed to speak Latin together, the which we all pronounced monastically and not after the picked, newfangled fashion. And since it appeared that we were all somewhat addicted to the exhaustion of claret before other wines, I called the Host and instructed him how to provide for us. "Bring hither," quoth I, "the most convenient and decent drinking-cup you have, and pour me into it as much claret as it will carry, and serve us some kind of drawer-on." Forthwith he brought us a silver chalice brimming with about a quart of scented wine, and set down some bottles in a corner if we were thirstier than we thought, for there is no possibility of exact calculation, and to chase a landlord to and fro for more when one journey sufficeth, misbecomes a gentleman. With this he bore a service of broiled fowl,
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